


A Siren's Song

by brevitas



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, Modern AU, merman au, monster au, not your typical one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:22:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brevitas/pseuds/brevitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is an Italian fisherman off the Palermo coast; Enjolras is a merman-esque creature who lives far below.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Siren's Song

August in Palermo was arduous. It was nearly noon and the sun hung directly overhead, exuding such temperatures that the beaches were swarming with tourists seeking to escape the heat by submerging themselves in the water.

Grantaire had pulled his boat, the _Les Amis_ (named by Grantaire’s French friend, Jean Prouvaire), from dock at five am that morning in an effort to beat the crowd. He’d succeeded but the early hour had wiped him, and the sultry weather wasn’t doing him any favors. Grantaire was often chastised by friends for being a natural-born Italian and still managing to be sensitive to the summer heat. He took a swig of beer and set it aside to finish coiling a length of wet rope, bent over to tuck the end away so it wouldn’t unravel.

Marius’ head poked out through th cabin's doorway. His face was smeared with sunscreen, highlighting the thick brush of freckles across his cheeks. “Grantaire,” he said, “We have a bit of a problem.”

Grantaire frowned at him, dried his hands on his jean shorts, and walked over to Marius. “What is it?” He asked, a heavy Italian accent honeying his words. He was darker than Marius, with a swath of black hair that matched the dark stubble along his jawline. He wore no shirt and had no apparent tan-lines; he was an even caramel through and through. Marius was still as jealous over this as he had been upon their introduction.

“Another ship is flagging us,” he said, gesturing through the window. Grantaire squinted and accepted the binoculars Marius handed him with a thank you. “They’ve got an orange flag up and everything.”

Grantaire frowned. “They look like tourists,” he huffed, passed the binoculars back to Marius. He was as American as they come but he understood Grantaire’s aversion to people such as this, sitting on a rented speedboat they scarcely knew how to drive.

He scrubbed a hand down his face with a groan. “Let’s go help them,” he said, shaking his head as he walked back out to retrieve his beer. Marius nodded and eased the throttle up, the engine chugging underfoot as he turned their boat to face them.

Far beneath the hull of the _Les Amis_ there lurked another. He went unnoticed by the humans above; he had long ago learned how to be inconspicuous and it served him even now. He was a coil of blue-grey similar to the hue of the water, fine alabaster skin darkened with mottled scales that veered him sharply away from appearing human. The hands that balanced him in the water were armed with fingers which evolution had given webbing; they kept him upright as he stretched out his long tail and studied the surface.

From down here he could trace the path of the humans via the vibrations they emitted into the water. He could rarely hear their conversations over their engines but when the _Les Amis_ suddenly began moving in a very purposeful direction he noticed. He righted himself with a swiftness that belonged to the creatures of the sea and frowned.

There was a glint of color off to his right that Enjolras didn’t react to, merely sighed when he recognized who it was. His breath exhaled in a rush of bubbles from thin slits on either side of his long neck.

“I was doing nothing but watching, Combeferre,” he said. In the water it had a surreal sound quality; via experimentation with captured humans Enjolras had come to realize that they could not understand their voices at all. If anything they sounded similar to a distant and melancholic song, no doubt giving rise to those siren myths that plagued their kind even contemporarily.

Combeferre smiled as he pulled up to stop at Enjolras’ side. His teeth were similar to a shark’s and touched his lips in neat rows. “I know,” he said. His own scales were nearly emerald, contrasting sharply with his dark skin and black hair. He was far more noticeable in the water and always took care to swim lower than Enjolras did. “I thought I would remind you of our agreement anyway.”

Enjolras blew out bubbles. “Yes,” he said, “I remember it. No killing of humans unless they pose a threat to our pod.”

Combeferre smiled, apparently pleased with the recital. He looked up and tracked the boat Enjolras favored as it trudged over them. “You’re watching him _again_?”

“Yes,” he said, then frowned. “It’s harmless.”

Combeferre thought it was too dangerous to associate with humans anymore. It wasn’t that he believed they should be spared (like all of their kind they considered humans inferior, possibly borne from watching them struggle whenever they ventured into the water) but that he realized how lethal it could prove to be if the humans discovered them. Enjolras begrudgingly agreed with him.

“Where are they going?” Combeferre asked. Their engine had shut off now and they were coasting towards another boat, a much smaller one that perched in the water like a sliver of shiny white.

Enjolras shrugged, gathering his cobalt tail up beneath him. “I believe they are trying to help someone,” he said. “They were discussing that earlier, at least.” Enjolras spent the most time with humans and had learned many of their languages through necessity; though he preferred when Grantaire spoke his native Italian he had taken effortlessly to the English Marius had brought with him. The mermen, who communicated through vibrations in the water, had no distinguishable language and could understand one another even when visiting from a distant sea.

Combeferre studied his friend out of the corner of his eye. When he blinked his eyelids went sideways, as all of theirs did. "Have you seen Courfeyrac around?"

Enjolras chuckled. "Yes. He said he was going to go try and find a false killer whale. You know his obsession with them."

"Only because he's trying to encourage them to breed more wolphins," Combeferre said, but fondness leaked into his voice. He shook his head. "I'll go find him."

"I'd try La Spezia," he recommended. "He went in that direction."

Combeferre nodded, thanked him, and turned to go. It was only a second thought that prompted him to say, "Be careful."

Enjolras looked loftily at him, smiling. "Always."

They parted ways, Combeferre quickly disappearing into the darker bowels of the ocean. All of their kind had heightened senses so Enjolras could hear him long after he dwindled from sight, the characteristic _swish_ ing of his broad green tail the identifying sound.

He turned back to the drama on the surface, which had descended into madness. Upon pulling up to the toursists' boat Grantaire realized none of them spoke English _or_ Italian, which left him and Marius at something of a disadvantage. As much as Grantaire could understand it was French, but Jehan had called in sick today (his rather weak excuse to stay home and write poetry with his boyfriend) and he was the only one Grantaire could think of that spoke it.

They were communicating somewhat unsuccessfully through hand language, trying to mime what each of them wanted. "I think they need water," Marius said suddenly. One of the younger girls was gesturing at her throat and panting in an exaggerated manner.

"Water?" Grantaire echoed, one thick eyebrow arched high. He turned away from the tourists with a snort. "I can't believe some of these people," he grumbled, "Come out on the goddamn ocean and don't even bring any water bottles."

He rustled some up and as soon as he returned with the water bottles cradled in his arms the boat cheered. "Nice job," he told Marius, who colored with a pleased smile.

Once they passed over the water and made sure the tourists didn't need anything else, Grantaire kindly explained that a lack of drinking water didn't necessitate an emergency. He wasn't sure they understood but they managed to thank the two of them in a bastardized hybrid of Italian and English. They gunned their engine and pulled away, erecting a huge wave that smashed into the side of the _Les Amis_.

"Sometimes," Grantaire said, turning back to Marius, "I think about moving. Sicily is too crowded, yes?"

Marius laughed. "You wouldn't be happy anywhere else," he said, returning to the cabin and turning their engine on. "Italy is where you belong."

Enjolras could only agree. As the afternoon wore on he trailed after them, as he usually did, chasing fish into their nets when he grew bored of playing with the schools himself. He pried a fish to pieces when they stopped for lunch, listening to the murmur of their voices as they ate their foul-smelling sandwiches. Enjolras wasn't sure what they did to tuna to make it smell like that.

The evening came in a rush of darkness and Grantaire and Marius made their way back to shore with practiced ease. Enjolras followed them up to the dock then wheeled away, buffeting his tail against the waves to speed back out to the deeper regions. He would find them in the morning, as he usually did, and contented himself with singing into the water until he could find Combeferre and Courfeyrac by their replies.

The next morning Enjolras awaited Grantaire close to the docks. He was watching a crab attempt to dominate another, all menacing claws and clicking as he scrabbled over the sand towards his opponent. Enjolras' head jerked up when he heard the telltale _chug chug chug_ of the _Les Amis_ ' senior engine and swam under the shadow of the boat when it eased away from the others.

Grantaire appeared to be alone today, something that happened occasionally when he didn't figure he'd do much of anything. The human seemed to prefer the sea to the land, as often on these days he would spend the night on the water rather than return to the shore.

Enjolras continued to follow him throughout the day, listening absentmindedly as Grantaire moved around. It was nearing two when the human said in Italian to himself, "Looks like a fine day for a swim," and began to strip his clothes off. Enjolras came a little closer to the surface, could see the long line of wavering Grantaire's shadow as he balanced on the edge of the boat before he leaped off.

He made a big splash, as humans were prone to do, and kept his eyes closed until he surfaced. He pushed his curly black hair back off his forehead with a contented sigh, keeping himself afloat with idle kicks of his feet. Enjolras, remembering Combeferre's advice, sighed and swam lower, until he was nearly indecipherable from the inky depths below.

They remained like this for a while, Grantaire doing some swimming and then flipping up to sunbathe on his back. He was buck-naked but he always was when he got in; Enjolras thought it more strange when he saw the humans frolicking in the waves with clothes on.

Some time later Enjolras was distracted from listening to a distant pod of dolphins by a sound above. He looked up, frowned at the inconsistent way Grantaire was bobbing in the water, and drifted eloquently higher. Grantaire still was not moving quite right, his feet no longer kicking to keep him even, and it took Enjolras a long moment of scrutiny to realize he was unconscious.

He was startled and bewildered by this sudden state, coming closer to inspect the human's strange condition. He was definitely unconscious, judging from his slowed heartbeat and motionless extremities but Enjolras could not tell why. The biology of humans was far beyond him, though Combeferre had loved dissecting them.

Grantaire started to tip dangerously to one side, half of his face submerging at a time. Enjolras knew very well what it took for a human to drown and he was quite sure being unconscious was a good start for that. He touched Grantaire's bare side once, spooked at the smooth skin, and swam some feet away to regroup. His next attempt he actually managed to right the human using both hands and a firm grip.

But he continued to lilt whenever Enjolras released him, and he really couldn't babysit the human for long. Cautiously Enjolras surfaced, opening his mouth to suck in air so it wouldn't dry out his gills. He scanned the horizon but Grantaire had come out far this morning and his closest neighbour was a mile away.

Frowning, Enjolras turned back to Grantaire. His long blonde hair stuck to his skin and scales in rivulets of color. _Fine_ , he thought to himself. _Combeferre cannot complain if I save one of them_.

It took a lot of effort to herd the human towards the Les Amis, now some feet away. He had to touch the human's strange skin to guide him, kicked with his tail to bring them closer to the boat. Once they bobbed against the side a great deal of manuerving was required to heft the top half of the human over the edge and then, belatedly, Enjolras realized he had no way to get his legs up. The boat sat low in the water but not low enough to make it possible for Enjolras to just push him the rest of the way up.

He made a frustrated noise that came out like a keening whine. Enjolras checked the horizon again; that first boat was even farther out now, its engine barely audible in the water. He took a deep breath and set his webbed hands against the boat, heaving himself out of the water with a grunt. Much like a seal he had to slap his tail on the underbelly of the boat a couple of times to give himself any propulsion, and only just managed to balance in a sitting position he copied from what he'd seen the humans do.

Grantaire still lolled unconscious next to him so once Enjolras was sure he would not fall he braced one arm against the railing of the ship and started dragging Grantaire up with the other. After five minutes of seesawing and grumbling about the dead weight a human presented Enjolras finally managed to get him onto the deck.

He took a deep breath and rumbled with pleasure, glad he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do. Enjolras planted his hands on either side of his hips, ready to slide into the water, when the human made a noise that surprised him. He flinched and stared at him and found Grantaire's eyes wide open. They were a shade of blue uncannily like the sea and it was enough to stop Enjolras and make him stare back at the human's muddled gaze.

"Uh," the human said. "You're... uh. Who are you?"

He was speaking Italian but when Enjolras didn't respond to him furrowed his brow and said again in English, "Who are you?"

Enjolras frowned. The human didn't appear to be panicking and Enjolras looked very little like him. Perhaps he had fallen unconscious because he'd hit his head when Enjolras hadn't been paying attention to him and had damaged something. He had never been seen by a human but he couldn't imagine their reaction would be similar to this.

Tentatively Grantaire touched a hand to his head while he waited fruitlessly for Enjolras to answer and the merman's theory was confirmed. Interesting; humans were apparently just as fragile on land as they were in the water. He must have hit his head against the boat under the momentum of an unexpected wave.

"Hello?" Grantaire asked, edging up into a sit. He looked down at Enjolras' tail and his eyes widened; the steady beating of his heart kicked up to a pace closer to prey. Enjolras was pleased to find that he was apparently stabilized enough to realize something was wrong.

"Holy shit," he was muttering, in Italian and English and occasionally something that sounded like Spanish. "Holy shit, holy shit, you have a fucking tail, what the _fuck_ \--"

Enjolras cleared his throat. The gills on either side of his throat fluttered with the noise and Grantaire's gaze jerked back to his face. Enjolras concentrated hard and made a sound similar to 'hi'. Grantaire looked at him incredulously.

"Hi?" He asked after a second and Enjolras smiled, the sight of his sharp teeth driving Grantaire back a few inches. "Wow I must be really fucked up," he whispered. "What the fuck did I drink last night?"

Enjolras frowned and tried again. He accomplished a broken, "Ahn-jol-rahs," and looked pleased about managing it.

Grantaire squinted at him, one hand still clamped to his head. "Enjolras?" He repeated back. When the merman (a fucking _merman_ ) smiled back at him with those freaky fucking teeth Grantaire assumed he'd gotten it right. "What is that, your fucking genus or something? What language is that?"

"Enjolras," he said, parroting Grantaire. He said haltingly, "Name."

"Name?" Grantaire echoed. "Hell no. We are not doing this whole, exchange name shit. You're a fucking... something." Enjolras didn't look like the merfolk Grantaire had seen in children's books. He was covered in scales that seemed almost like a shark's, smooth one way and painfully resistant the other. His eyes were a little too big for his face, his pupils contracted to definitely inhuman slits under the sun. Every time he blinked one set went sideways and the other up and down, which was almost as disconcerting as the gills tucked under his jaw that exhaled every time Enjolras did.

But Enjolras merely continued to stare at him with those eerie eyes, and finally Grantaire sighed and muttered, "Grantaire."

Enjolras nodded. It seemed almost like an 'I know' gesture, which was inordinately creepy. Grantaire started climbing to his feet, digging his toes into the deck and only just noticing his nakedness. Enjolras was watching him in a way that was giving Grantaire goosebumps so he hurried to pull his jeans on.

"So I guess thanks are in order," he said, quickly buttoning it. He turned back to Enjolras who was closer to the edge, thick black tail dangling into the water. Grantaire tried not to stare at it. "Uh, thanks?"

The merman smiled and nodded, then slid off the rest of the way and disappeared, just like that. There was barely even a ripple when Grantaire went to look, which he definitely did. He scratched the bump forming under his crown of black hair and shook his head. "I'm fucking tripping," he said to himself. "There's no way I just--"

Enjolras reappeared at the edge of his boat, webbed hands clasping the deck. He was grinning, blonde hair slicked back away from his face. "You are welcome," he managed. He disappeared again, leaving Grantaire baffled in his wake.

Enjolras chuckled as he eased down into the blackness and was unsurprised to find both Combeferre and Courfeyrac waiting for him, wrapped around each other. Combeferre looked aghast.

"I can't believe you--"

"Talked to him!" Courfeyrac finished excitedly. "I didn't know we could even make those sounds, man. How fucking _cool_."

Combeferre cut his boyfriend an exasperated look but Courfeyrac was absolutely apologetic. Enjolras merely smiled at the two of them.

"I did not kill him," he told Combeferre smugly. "I believe that means I'm not in trouble."

Courfeyrac sniggered, elbowing Combeferre. "Lookit that," he said, grinning. "E got you, man." Combeferre frowned at him and Courfeyrac shrugged. "You were the one who made the rules, babe."

Enjolras nodded. "He was actually rather... interesting," he said. "I would not mind speaking with him again."

Courfeyrac whooped. "I love it," he said. "What's that movie they're always tittering about in their merman jokes? Something about Ariel, right?" He didn't wait for either of them to answer him, just grinned at Enjolras. "Our own little Ariel. That's precious, babe."

"It's not precious," Combeferre chastised but Enjolras was smiling and he couldn't hold back on his own. "I don't know why I try," he told the two of them. "You're both impossible."

"Hey, I want to meet him sometime," Courfeyrac said, turning back to Enjolras. Against Combeferre's green and brown hues Courfeyrac's pink scales and amber skin were noticeable even in the darker waters. "You know, to say hi. Or like, try to anyway."

Enjolras chuckled. "Alright," he said, glancing up when heard Grantaire's boat engine turn on. "We'll see."

**Author's Note:**

> uh I am weak-willed and I like mermen and bunbunjolras had this post up that I saw earlier: what i need right now is for someone to point me towards/draw me merperson enjolras who’s not one of those clearly half-human/half-fish creatures but has webbed fingers and mottled, scaly skin and scary pointy teeth and will kill you given half the chance but is fascinated by this scruffy, hairy sailor grantaire please
> 
> so I kinda did what they suggested and kinda not I just really super like mermen lore and shit c:
> 
> this is just a one-shot, I wanted to experiment with atypical mermen characteristics and that post was just way too inspirational for me!
> 
> tumblr is idfaciendumest if you want to ask/follow/whatevs c: kisses, hope you enjoy~


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